Enough Is Enough
by OneMagician
Summary: One-Shot AU: Alternative ending for Bleeding Through. What if Belle took matters into her own hands? Rated T for just a little bit of a literally gory ending to Zelena...


**Enough Is Enough**

**A.N. Enough is enough, folks. Someone has to end this, or I'll go bonkers… so here goes!**

Belle couldn't believe that he was in Zelena's arms, while his eyes were touching _her soul, _aware of her presence on the back porch. He was deliberately _not_ looking right at her, but he certainly knew she was there, while he was tracing kisses up the witch's neck, moving on to her jaw line, and up to her mouth. His lips were on her mouth, and Belle was all kinds of nauseously upset, even though she knew that he wasn't playing Zelena's game. Not like this malicious creature might assume he was.

His heart was like a magnet to Belle, and she knew his world was turning and spinning out of control, because she could feel it reeling and tumbling, crashing to the floor at this moment. It was crushing and tearing at her innermost being to stand out here and watch him with her through the window. She was finding it hard to breathe and knew she should leave _right now_, but she couldn't. Her feet were rooted to the ground, even when he maneuvered himself and Zelena so cleverly and intently around the kitchen of the little farmhouse and out of her sight that she wouldn't have to look at him bending over the blonde anymore.

"Leave," she could hear his breathy voice pleading with her inside her mind, chilling her to the bone. "Please… go."

She had no idea how she would be able to look at herself in the mirror ever again, but she could feel her legs move as she backed away. The hurt within was doubling with every inch she was retreating from him, and she swiped at her eyes, where it started spilling over onto her cheeks, burning and stinging tracks on her face.

She remembered the cage he'd been confined to in his castle. Wooden bars and metal locks to imprison him in his own home, straw on the floor. All that, though even Zelena must have realized that he'd already been too broken to be going anywhere of his own accord, dagger or no dagger. The Wicked Witch had held him like the main attraction of a freak show; a curiosity to gawk at, for her own benefit only, and he had complied with her every wish, _the voices_ murmuring, whispering, shouting in his head.

There had been a fire in the hearth, but Belle hadn't felt its warmth when she'd seen him there. She'd been frozen to the core, just as she was now, in the middle of the dark winter night she was spending on the porch of the old farmhouse, standing guard, looking in, _bleeding through._

She'd reached out for him then, and there had been a small spark of recognition as she'd pressed her palm to the back of his hand, but he hadn't been able to focus his attention on her at all. _Too many voices…_ He'd ranted and raved, and spoken in riddles that hadn't served them very well, in the end. The others had thought so, but deep inside, Belle had known that none of it would. The Evil Queen had been convinced that he'd gone mad, _and he had_, but they'd all actually gone along with what he'd suggested. She still couldn't quite comprehend what had driven them. Snow and David had gone into the Black Forest with Regina, and they'd come back with a plan that had made Belle's hair stand on end, but no one had listened to her.

Things were different now, after Snow had cast the unspeakable curse once again. And _still,_ no one was really listening to her. Time was running out, but they were falling all over themselves doing things that weren't helping anyone. Bae was gone, and the fact that he was dead had restored Rumple to _somewhat_ more sanity, but Zelena was using the dagger to control him.

Belle trusted his motives, even when he was ravishing Zelena without her threatening him with it because his thoughts were clearer now, but, unfortunately, Zelena didn't. When he bent to retrieve the Dark One's dagger from her boot, he was stunned by the protection spell she had put on it. Belle watched him falter, and her eyes grew wide in horror, as Zelena leaned in to him and whispered something mean that echoed in his skull, reverberating hatefulness and spite, before he stumbled backwards and raised his hands, as though she was pointing a gun in his face.

Belle had been the last to leave the room the Wicked Witch had kept him in at his castle. The others had been quick to draw their conclusions and abandon him, fearing Zelena's return, but she'd stayed behind and spoken to him softly, trying to soothe away some of the pain he was in, trying to loosen the knots that were tangling and twisting his mind. No one had even noticed she wasn't keeping up, and they had left her there with him, until, hours later, she had finally told him that she had to go, and made her way up to the library he'd stocked for her, once upon a time. She was pretty sure that this was the last place Zelena would come looking for her, and she'd been right.

Belle had spent the entire night raking through the high shelves and poring over the books that seemed as though they could offer some information and insight to their situation. There was much to be considered, but then, she'd discovered that the answer was really quite simple. So easy that nobody had considered it.

Rumple was the key, this much Belle had been and still was sure of, while the others were building baby cribs and staging stunt-shows by the bell tower, having lunch at Granny's and endangering Henry by leaving him to himself half the time. Belle, however, wasn't going to spend another minute sitting around, she'd decided that very day in the Enchanted Forest, and she was sticking to her plan. She hadn't forgotten, like the others had, because she'd found a book with the recipe for the right potion that would keep her memories and thoughts safe and her own, whatever happened. The Evil Queen might be teaching Emma some stage tricks – but Belle had been learning to use magic. _His_ magic.

She'd taken some of Rumple's books with her to his cage, when she'd been sure that Zelena wasn't anywhere on the castle grounds, and she'd continued to speak to him. He'd never made much sense, but she'd hoped that she was giving him some solace, and that her presence would in some way be a small comfort to him – as being here with him was to her. He'd given her little more than a few enigmatic clues as to where she might best find a place to start, yet she'd acquired much knowledge just by studying his lexica and journals, and she was going to put to good use what she'd mastered.

But not right now. At this minute, she'd have to stand down and withdraw into the shadows when Zelena put him in his place and sent him out the door and back to the kennel she was keeping him in the storm cellar. Belle hid in the dark space behind some broken monstrosity of an old air conditioning unit in one corner of the porch, when he stepped out onto the dirty wooden floor planks.

"I _will_ have to kill you, if I see you…" she heard him tell her in her mind. "I will have to..."

"You won't see me if you don't turn around," she quietly replied to his.

He stopped for a moment, hesitating. "I… I'm sorry you had to watch that," he whispered to her in her head. "I'm so sorry."

"I love you," she told him back. "You know I do, and you know I'll never stop."

She could see him going to his knees, rock backwards, and cover his face with his hands, elbows tucked in to his belly. "I love you," he said softly, but out loud. "I do."

She passed him within an inch of brushing his shoulder, barely resisting the temptation to touch his arm because she knew he'd have to do as Zelena had commanded him to if he caught sight of her. He would execute her, and it would kill him.

Leaving him there was as hard as it always was. It never got any easier, and she was almost back to the Explorer Red had borrowed and parked in the woods, before she stopped to catch her breath.

"Did you get it?" she asked her friend, who was hiding in the bushes.

"Yes," Red proclaimed, coming out of the undergrowth. An evil smile crept across the brunette's face, when she tossed her the tasteless piece of jewelry that they'd come here to obtain. "_Of course_ I got it – what do you think? Window was open."

Belle mirrored her smile, as she caught the absurdly super-sized emerald with its golden setting and weighed it in her right hand. The very feel of it revolted her beyond anything she'd ever touched, and she assumed this was not only because of the deep loathing she felt for its owner.

"Alright, then let's get to it," she put forward determinedly.

Red got the supplies they'd brought from the shop out of the trunk of the grey Ford, and Belle made a small fire behind the car, out of sight of the farmhouse. It was starting to snow lightly, and Belle swore under her breath when the kindling wouldn't catch the first few times she tried to get it burning, but Red found a big blue umbrella on the back seat and held it for her patiently as she applied herself.

When the flames began lapping greedily at the twigs and small pieces of bark she'd carefully arranged, she slowly began layering them with some bigger pieces of wood, so that there was soon enough heat to cook the simple mixture she was preparing in the small cauldron that she'd taken from Rumple's back room. It comprised of just two ingredients: two parts distillated water and one part holy water from the baptistery of the Storybrooke Methodist Church. Only one last thing had to be added, when boiling. This last thing was the emerald, and it was bound to be sorely missed anytime now. Belle wished she'd been able to organize a gas stove, but times were tough. Making do, she set up the small steel tripod she'd brought instead, and set the cauldron atop its circular frame.

Then, right on cue, she heard him call out to her inside her mind. It was more of a scream. She had no idea from where it was coming, but his voice was fraught with agony, and it was telling her to _run!_ Zelena was on her way, and so was he.

"She knows," Belle informed her friend flatly. "They're coming."

Since she had no intention of running this time, she closed her eyes and concentrated on the water, thinking _boil_, which was raising its temperature one degree at a time, while Red was bobbing up and down in her boots, shaking from the cold and very probably a sizeable amount of fear.

"And _what_, may I ask, are you doing here?" The Wicked Witch queried, her accent annoying as ever, when she emerged from behind the SUV.

Belle looked up at her briefly, and noted that Rumple was bringing up her rear ever so slowly, as though he was drawing out the inevitable. She smiled benevolently at the viciously leering woman opposite her.

"Planning your demise," she answered truthfully, rising to her full height to face the blonde and dropping the necklace into the cauldron behind her back unobtrusively. The bubbling water started misting at the surface, Red noted, still holding her umbrella, and it smelled as though something had died in there – days ago.

"What makes you think you have anything to pit against me?" Zelena hissed at Belle, "You're starting to become terribly bothersome." She turned to Rumple, who was still some way off, teeth clenched and breathing hard. "Would you please finally do something useful, doll?" she insisted, and he began moving again, ever so slowly, ever so painstakingly.

At that, Belle spun around in one fluid motion and picked up the cauldron by both its handle and by placing one palm on the side, scorching herself as she did so. It didn't matter; she only held it long enough to fling its contents at the witch, who bellowed in torment when the liquid hit her face and upper body. Screams of agony echoed through the forest as she began disintegrating. She virtually melted away from the head on down, denting, deflating, contours rippling and fading. Red gaped at the pooling mess on the ground and quirked an eyebrow at Belle, who was cradling her injured hand as the dagger slipped from a gore-filled boot that fell over on its side and landed on the damp grass with a thud.

Rumple stumbled and stopped in his tracks, a mere foot from where Zelena's remains were still blistering away, his mouth working, inhaling deeply as his eyes darted from Belle to the dagger and back. She could see the tension building in his shoulders as his chest rose and fell, but his eyes seemed to be softening, and she swallowed hard. Was this it? Was this all it took? Cautiously, she took a few steps towards him and crouched down to pick up the dagger from where it lay, not letting him out of her sight. He held her gaze, and Red closed the umbrella she was still clinging to, ready to use it as a last means of defending them both, in the event that the Dark One was even now inclined to come at them after all. For all the good it would do them, she thought.

Belle held her breath and stepped over the green puddle towards the sorcerer. He made no attempt to stop her, and she resolutely held out the dagger to him, hilt first. He gingerly took it from her hand, and suddenly, his mouth twitched with the beginnings of a smile that became visible as the leaden clouds cleared the cold silver moon overhead.

"Rumple?" she winced, tugging at her lower lip. If he killed her now, then so be it. She'd done all that she could to save her friends, to save herself, and to save him.

"Belle…" he began, lowering the dagger to his side as he reached for her with his free hand, "I'm flipping freezing out here, and I think Red's just wet her pants. Let's go home, dearie."

A broad grin crept across his face, and it spoke volumes, as he leaned forward and looked at the viewers in front of their TV screens. "And as for you," he breathed, "do let your screen authors know when enough is enough."

RUMBELLE ON! YES!


End file.
